I honestly don't know what to say. How does Devin know my name? I swear we've never had a conversation before. My mind is racing, wondering if this is all some stupid joke—except we're the only two kids left on the bus. There's no one left to think this is funny. It's just confusing—for me at least. "How do you know my name?" I ask at last, after an awkward silence. "Right," he says, shifting his weight and fixing me with a look that reminds me more of a sympathetic adult than a teenage boy. "I'm sorry Lina, but this is going to be a lot to grasp." A lot to grasp? What's that supposed to mean? "Time to get off you two," the bus driver growls. "And this time I mean it." When has he ever not meant it? I wonder with a sigh. He doesn't have to tell me twice. "I don't go to your school like you think," Devin confesses. What is the idiot talking about? Of course he goes to our school! "I've only been here to observe." Okay... "There are certain students at this school who are different," he continues, "and I mean a bad kind of different. The kind of different that can't be fixed. You happen to be one of those people." Now I'm angry. I have nowhere near the amount of struggles some of the kids at our school face every day. I get good grades, I have a good family. I have to say Devin's a pretty good actor, too . I turn to leave, deciding not to play along, but Devin stops me. "Where are you going?" he asks. I pull away. "School obviously." "No." He shakes his head. "You're like a virus. We have to get you out of here before it spreads." He gestures towards an older looking yellow bus, the metal rusting in places where the paint was chipped off. I'm surprised I hadn't noticed it before now, parked next to the curb. Faces that I reconize peer out at me from inside, pressed up against the glass. "Same as all the other viruses of Heartfeild Middle school," Devin smiles, "just like you."